


Buttercup

by Zymm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 18:31:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11213793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zymm/pseuds/Zymm
Summary: Remus Lupin struggles with the aftermath and consequences of his decision.Based loosely on the song 'Buttercup' by Hippo Campus





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based *loosely* on the song Buttercup but Hippo Campus, my current music obsession at the moment. If you haven't listened to it, please do- it's perfect and angsty hidden behind happy tunes.

It had all started with him being stubborn and driven, possessed by the suffocating feelings of worthlessness and insecurity. At the time, he’d swallowed down the hurt, the pain, the new surge of hatred, all for what he held in his mind as the ‘greater good’. In his head, he was making a clear, rational decision, no matter how badly it tore him to pieces on the inside.

“It can’t work…” Remus had told her, refusing to look to her eyes. Part of him knew how much more of a pitiful creature that made him- he didn’t even give the poor girl the respect of acknowledgement. He knew that if he did that, he’d swallow his words in a heartbeat and reject them all together.

“I’m too old, too poor, too dangerous for you.” He said, seemingly cold and detached. She’d just stood there, a shiny glaze of tears threatening to leave her eyes. It jarred him even more, because Nymphadora Tonks, auror and Metamorphmagus extraordinaire, did not cry. She was too fierce, too stubborn, too strong to cry. 

It was so, so depressing for him that she would cry over a pathetic creature such as himself. Someone far too old, way too poor, and terribly too dangerous. 

It was even more surprising that this time around, she hadn’t said a word to him. Just stared him down with those green, red-rimmed eyes, as if willing him to say another word against her. Finally, when the tension began to overwhelm even Remus, she moved. A part of him expected her to kiss him, he thought guiltily; he would've relished it before scolding it, a small bit of indulgence. But instead, she walked smoothly out of the room, the only sign of their interaction a small sniffle on her part.

Remus let his breath out, and let it all in. It hurt, a nasty weight on his chest. She didn’t deserve this treatment. No, she deserved some handsome, young wizard, just as smart and quick-witted as herself. She definitely did not deserve to be condemned to a life alongside a creature such as himself. 

She would bounce back, eventually. He hoped that whenever she did, he would either be dead or long gone, out of reach from every owl on the damned planet. But she would eventually find someone worth her time. 

He wouldn’t move on, but he decision was for the best. He wouldn’t waste any more of his life selfishly bringing those he loved into his misery.

 

\--------------------

 

Grimmauld Place was quiet and dead the weeks following.

He knew it was because the presence of a certain bubbly auror was gone, but he instead placed the blame on other factors. It was a frosty winter outside, the sun refusing to perform its duties. Sirius had been gloomy as ever, seemingly caught up in the past once again. Molly had yet to bring another care package or organize another Order dinner, so they were left without the comfort of chaotic companionship. 

Remus didn’t eat much, but he assured himself that it was simply because the full moon was only a week away. Nothing sounded quite right, and even his beloved tea and cocoa became unappealing to him. It was just the moon, he lied to himself.

It became a nauseating routine of trying- and failing- to sleep, waking and half-heartedly sipping tea, and spending the day trying to fill a void he’d thrown himself half-heartedly into. And then it was back to bed, only to lay awake and stare at the peeling paint of the ceilings.

One day Remus had dragged himself out of bed to seek out a cup of tea, only to hear a jarring voice drifting out of the library.

“No, Sirius, I’m here to drop off the papers from Dumbledore.” The voice, annoyed, strained, and oh so sweet, broke Remus’s attempts at ignorance. His heart lurched, painfully aching in his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her until he heard her voice again, a beautiful sound to his ears.

He’d kill to have her by his side, telling him again of some shenanigans in her department or some epic Quidditch play she’d witnessed in the tournaments. Things he had little to no interest in, but when she was speaking, it was as if it were gospel.

“Why’d he make you bring it all the way here then?” Sirius answered, and Remus could practically see the signature smirk on his face. Remus found himself in the bend of the hallway, unable to see the conversation take place, but able to clearly paint the picture in his mind. He’d regret it later, but he’d became desperately hungry for her in the absence. Selfish, he told himself, selfish yet again.

“I don’t know, you git.” Tonks said, practically seething. “I’m just doing what he says.”

“He was hoping you’d run into my moody little werewolf friend.” Sirius responded cheekily. Remus squeezed his eyes shut, wincing. 

“I’ve no idea why.” Tonks said brazenly, not a hint of involvement in her voice. Had you been an outsider listening in, her auror training would’ve made one believe that she had but a clue what her involvement with Remus Lupin could be. But sadly, Remus was the farthest thing from a outsider in this situation, and he couldn't help the stab of hurt that went through him.

Remus heard the rustle of clothing, the sound of a coat being wrangled on; a rush of terror overtook him. God, how he wanted to see her, her pretty, heart-shaped face and the glint of youth in her eyes, but at the same time he never wanted to see her again. She had far, far too much control over him, and thank the gods she had not found that out yet.

“Tonks,” Sirius said, the playful tone absent from his voice. “Really, are you alright?”

There was silence, as two sets of ears awaited her answer.

“I’ll be fine on my own.” 

And with that, she left with a crack of an apparition, leaving Remus to lick his wounds.

\--------------------

After three weeks, an owl finally came, delivering a friendly message.

It was Molly Weasley, inviting both Remus and Sirius to a dinner at the Burrow tomorrow evening. Although it detailed nothing but a hearty, happy feast, they both knew the underlying message: it was an Order meeting. 

There had been little need to meet as of recently, so the return of some semblance of routine comforted Remus. He’d have a reason to get out of bed in the mornings, to shave, to take care of himself again. He could drown himself in more missions of the Order, suffocate himself in the distraction of forced duty. He knew she would never be completely out of his mind, but he could subdue that part of him with work instead.

The sad thing was the realization that Tonks would be there as well. He scolded himself- of course she would attend, being such a bright, gifted Auror as herself. Her life did not end when he excused himself from it, quite the opposite of what it did to Remus’s own life. 

The letter rekindled his overwhelming emotions once more, reminding himself that he was in fact, doing terribly. 

The full moon was awful this month, leaving him a weak, muddled man. Something inside him ached dearly, and he realized bitterly that it was some repressed need for her. Some ugly, repressed animal part of him needed her, needed her to fill the empty spot in his bed and the vacant hole in his heart. The full moon left him feeling more like an animal.

The realization that the wolf wanted her just as badly as he did left Remus even more confident in his decision. He was some animal deep down, a wolf seeking for a mate. He wondered, numbly, if he could even love someone correctly. Perhaps that had been stolen from him when he became a wolf.

And once again, Remus Lupin found out that he was the perfect criteria for a man Nymphadora Tonks did not need.

\-------------

 

I’ll be fine on my own, she’d said.

Remus had heard her correctly, he knew. His senses had never failed him; they always peaked before a moon, and he had heard every movement, every little sound from the library that day. He’d even smelled the scent of her wafting through the hallways, a temptation of youth.

But clearly something had been lost in the translation, if his eyes did not fail him now.

Charlie Weasley could hardly keep his hands off the witch, entwining their fingers, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, twirling a lock of her bubblegum-pink hair around a finger. Tonks seemed indifferent to the flirtation, just grinning back up at the Weasley boy, gently shoving his hand away from her face in a playful motion. 

Remus was bitter. He could practically taste the emotion in his mouth, a nasty lump in his throat that he could easily identify as unrestrained, ugly jealousy. It burned inside him.

“I didn’t have too much time to cook up a full meal, now, since I was given a very short notice-” Molly began, rushing through the dining room, a large pot in her hands while three more floated behind her, following her every move.

“And I apologize for that, again. Your hospitality never fails us.” Kingsley said, a slight grin on his face as he watched the witch place dinner in front of her awaiting guests. 

The table was filled to the brim, with at least twenty members seated around its surface. Remus had found himself across the room from the pair he was trying desperately to not acknowledge, seated between Sirius and one of the older Weasley brothers that he could not place for the life of him.

“So, you seen Harry play any Quidditch lately, Moony?” Sirius asked, completely out of the blue; Remus understood the distraction when he heard it. 

He didn’t need a distraction. He was fine. He made his decision, and he was completely fine with it. It was logical, and it was obvious that Tonks had agreed with him after a few weeks.

God, only a few weeks. A few weeks, and this happens.

“Remus?” Sirius asked again, his expression turning worried.

“Fine.” Remus answered, a bit loudly. “I’m fine, Sirius.”

“That’s not what I asked, and it’s not the truth, but I suppose I gotta take what I can get.” Sirius replied, stirring his soup around with little interest. He seemed almost amused with the entire situation, and that royally pissed his companion off. 

Remus shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth, swallowing the burning liquid without a taste. He saw Tonks giggling out of the corner of his eye, her hand clasped over her mouth as she watched Charlie gesture wildly. Remus forced his focus on his friend instead.

“I know I’m rather pretty, but It’d be great if you’d stop admiring me.” Sirius said cheekily, sipping on a flask from God knows where. He’d made himself quite at home at the Burrow’s mismatched dining table, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. He was as happy as Remus had seen him in ages, a youthful glimmer in his eyes, and it couldn’t help but heal Remus’s sour mood a small fraction.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Remus grumbled, crumpling the napkin in his lap anxiously. He wanted out of the situation dearly, wanted to hole up in his room at Grimmauld Place and lick his open wounds until the pain was bearable. 

“Lighten up, buttercup.” Sirius told him, a wicked grin painting his features, his hair wild around his face. He looked like a perfect portrait of his younger self, eager to engage in activities that would only aid his expulsion from school. There was something else glinting in his dark eyes, though, something Remus couldn’t put his finger on.

“You did put yourself in this situation, after all.” 

There it was- the glint in his eyes, the coldness of his statement, the blank grin he gave Remus. He was enraged on the inside, and it hit Remus that perhaps Sirius’s moodiness over the course of the past few weeks were provoked by his best friend, instead of just his normal bouts of depression. 

No, Remus realized, Sirius was furious. Furious that he had rejected his cousin, furious that he had declared a love unrequited when it was in fact very, very requited. And, if Remus knew Sirius Black at all, he was furious that his best friend had allowed himself to cut himself off, once again, by the hands of his own worthlessness and self-repulsion. 

Instead of an equally frosty reply, or a rare surge of anger, Remus instead took a sip of his tea, his mind a mess. Somewhere down the table, Charlie had slung an arm around a Metamorphmagus, pulling her small frame into the crook of his shoulder as they both chuckled over an elaborate hoax described by Fred Weasley. Remus drank more tea.

He could see it behind his eyelids, a constant imagination in his head. He could picture them embarking on dates, dining at fancy restaurants and wrangling rare creatures. Training dragons and seeing the opera on the weekends. Remus could picture Charlie kissing her, hands tangled in her hair as it ran through the colors of the rainbow, a brilliant shade of pink fading into greens, blues, and reds, until landing on an elated yellow. Could picture them falling into bed, him slipping off her dress as she muttered his name like a vow.

“I must go.” Remus announced quickly, standing so suddenly that his chair was almost toppled over. His eyes were large, his breath quick and his appearance even shabbier than normal, and to the rest of his fellow wizards, he seemed to be in shambles. The room was deadly silent.

“Remus, honey, are you not feeling-” Molly, ever the guardian, began to inquire, before being cut off quickly.

“The moon.” Remus said, hating himself even more as he kept talking. He never talked about his condition; they accepted him here, but he wondered just how far that acceptance would stretch. “It is still, ah, bothering me after my moon.”

The silence was made even more uncomfortable and awkward, and he found himself wanting to lash out violently. He was a fool, even when he made the right decision, the one best for everyone’s wellbeing. Still a pathetic fool.

He swiftly left the room, going to reclaim his coat from the hangar by the doorway. He faintly heard the sound of silverware clinking again as the guests began to enjoy their dinner once more.

“Sorry,” He heard Sirius say to the table. “He’s a bit- ah, what’s the word- moody as of late.”

Lupin apparition with a sharp crack, a snarl on his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius didn’t even come home that night.

It somehow fueled Remus’s foul mood even more, igniting a harsh feeling towards Sirius, one that he hadn’t felt for the man since their feuds in school. He had expected some sort of sympathy there, from his best friend at least. Sirius had been the one to help him through the blues through his life, through the job struggles and societal rejections.

This time was different, and Remus knew why, but he didn’t care. He thought that it was the noble, correct decision. A decision for the greater good.

He reached the bottom of a glass of firewhiskey before he entertained the idea that maybe all of that was bullshit.

Sitting alone in the gloomy darkness of Grimmauld Place, his robes askew and eyes bloodshot, he realized that perhaps he had screwed it all up. It was an insufferable situation- damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Sirius wouldn’t understand.

Remus knew he was still at the Weasleys, probably drinking shots of various alcohols, sitting around a table with the members of the Order. It was probably pleasant- it always was, and it was in such a situation that he had first met Tonks.

He had known it was her first meeting, since he would’ve remembered her clearly had it not. Nymphadora Tonks was above all things, memorable. It was not his first Order meeting, but he still had that sense of rather childish hope inside of him, and he had attributed that to his vulnerability to love.

She’d tripped over something, her curses and the sound of breaking glass echoing down a hallway. Mad Eye’s scolding had followed soon after.

“Sometimes I wonder how you even qualified for Auror training.” Mad-Eye had scoffed, but with a soft sort of affection hidden beneath the harsh words. Remus heard the witch giggle before she stumbled into the dining area.

“Sorry to be late, Molly, I was busy picking up after this one.” Mad-Eye had grumbled, seating himself near the head of the table. The witch that stumbled in behind him had immediately caught Remus’s eye, with a bit of amusement.

She looked nothing like the image of a talented, skillful Auror he’d heard so many stories about. He knew that she was young, but she seemed much more youthful and happy that he’d previously expected. A rather odd exception in the old, refined mood of many Order members.

Nymphadora Tonks was short, slender, a little pixie clothed in oversized Auror robes. She was pretty, as well, Remus obviously noted, with a little heart-shaped face and twinkling eyes. She was easy on the eyes for sure, but that wasn’t what had caught his attention.

No, it was her hair- a bright mess of wavy bubble-gum pink, scraping the top of her shoulders. It was blinding, but it seemed to fit her perfectly. It was then that Remus was completely entranced. 

And then she stubbed her toe on the side of the table, muttering a few dirty curses underneath her breath, and the illusion she had created was gone. Remus hid a grin behind his napkin.

And then later, after the younger ones had retreated to bed with only minimal complaints, they found themselves huddled around the living room table, drinks in hand. It had been Sirius who had suggested a drink around the table, of course, and with the progress the Order had been making as of late, it seemed warranted. 

Kingsley was telling some tale of his past Auror years, some story involving a missing Grindylow and an unsuspecting coworker. Tonks had settled into the couch next to Remus long before the story began, and he was all too aware of her leg pressed against him, moving slightly as she giggled at the audacious story.

Remus found himself smiling, her mood infectious. He was just buzzed enough from the firewhiskey to indulge in the presence of a pretty witch, without feeling overwhelming guilt at his condition. 

“You know all about those, don’t ya Remus?” Sirius had commented, grinning wildly as he gestured to his best mate, a bottle still in hand. Remus flushed- he wasn’t quite ready to transition from bystander into story-teller quite yet. 

“Well, yes, I’ve managed to nab a few in my years-” He commented awkwardly, pulling at the collar of his sweater. He wasn’t drunk enough to enjoy the spotlight.

“Oh!” He heard the witch next to him comment, and he was met with the sight of her wide eyes, her pretty skin holding a pinkish, alcohol-induced glow. Remus could already feel himself blushing.

“That’s who you are- I know I’d seen you before. Remus Lupin, the-” 

He felt his stomach drop, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He knew what she was about to say, and the word was bitter and foul on his tongue.

“-dark creature wrangler I’d been hearing stories about!” She finished, an innocent grin still on her lips. Remus could’ve laughed in that moment, a barking chuckle of joy. He was very, very pleasantly surprised.

She didn’t know.

“I’m Tonks.” She announced, holding out a hand for him to shake. He obliged, encasing her small hand in his own. She seemed so fragile, so youthful and young. Pristine.

“Tonks? Surely there’s a name to accompany Tonks.” Remus commented, surprised by his own swift rebuttal. He could feel Sirius’s eyes drilling into him as the rest of the Order members chatted and laughed among themselves.

“Nope, it’s just Tonks.” She said, a twinkle in her eye as she tucked a stray pink lock behind her ear. 

“I’d bet that I could guess it, given a few attempts.” Remus wagered, a uncharacteristically youthful smirk on his features. Sirius all but gaped at him, looking suddenly like a Marauder in the youthful past. Remus would blame it on the firewhiskey.

“Clarissa?” He guessed, already knowing the answer to his question. She barked out a laugh, throwing her head back to expose a slender, porcelain neck. Gods, she was pretty.

“That’s a bloody awful name.” Tonks laughed, her face red and cheery. “I thought you were supposed to be a bright bloke.”

“Cassiopeia?” Remus wondered with pretend innocence. “Seems very… celestial.”

“Oh, what do you make me for? Some poor sap?” She giggled. 

“Okay, perhaps not a Cassiopeia.” Remus chuckled. “Callisto, perhaps?”

“You’re ridiculous.” Tonks scoffed, downing the rest of her drink in a fluid motion. She shook her head, a wonderful grin still stretching across her features. “My name does not start with a C, and it has little to do with the sky, I’ll have you know.”

“It doesn’t even exist, I’ll have you know.” She added after second thought.

Remus laughed. “Well, now you’re just outright lying. Not a promising feature in an up and coming Auror, if I do say so myself.”

The night wore on, into the dark early morning hours, drinks still being passed around the mingling crew. Tonks’ attention had been reclaimed by the stories of Weasley shenanigans, courtesy of Molly Weasley (who only pretended to be disappointed in her sons’ misbehavior at Hogwarts), and Remus had found himself soaking in the company of others. He was so often alone, and though solitude was sometimes embraced, it left him with an awful longing for company. Even sitting among his fellow Order members, quietly sipping his drink, scratched the itch.

But it was over far too soon- Kingsley had left already, called back after a message from his worried wife, and Molly had dozed off, looking rather uncomfortable in the crook of the couch. Mad-Eye began to usher Tonks along, a few half-hearted remarks shot towards her (“Work, you have work in less than five hours! I swear, you’d best be ready to train hard, hangover be damned!”), much to her disappointment.

“Our cue to leave?” Sirius inquired, poking fun at the werewolf. Remus shrugged him off, in far too much of a light mood to let him irritate him. 

“Bye Remus, it was fun meeting you!” Tonks shot over her shoulder, trying to tug on her top robe with little success. She was leaning halfway on her mentor, a bit too much drink in her. Mad-Eye grumbled under his breath.

“My pleasure,” Remus shot back, a small, refined grin on his face. ,”Nymphadora.”

Moody had already apparated them when she had registered what he’d called her; Remus caught the frown on her face, her mouth open to protest, and then she was gone. Sirius was howling with laughter beside him.

Remus couldn’t help but grin wildly, an odd, but welcome expression for the man.

Remus missed the social drinks with them. He missed the Quidditch games they’d have before an Order meeting, watching Tonks attempt to take on a few Weasleys with little success. He missed the few times he’d join in, just to see the surprised look on her face. He missed the times they’d go out on Order business, spending most of their time chatting about things that were most certainly not Order business. 

He missed her, above all things. It’d only been four, almost five weeks since she’d told Sirius she’d be fine on her own. Just a tad bit longer since he’d rejected her. It already felt like far too long, like he was stuck in some awful time loop with no end in sight.

Remus rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the stubble on his chin and the weariness in his eyes. He didn’t know what time it was, and he wondered faintly if Sirius would come back. He’d alienated Tonks from himself, and perhaps he’d inadvertently done the same to Sirius. Remus had meant to only push one Black relative away, but instead had pushed away the two closest people to him. 

He needed to talk to Sirius, and then he’d figure out what to do. 

Yes, that was it, Remus thought as he pressed his face to the cold wood of the dining room table of Grimmauld Place, his eyes focused on nothing. Sirius would know what to do, he always did. It was just a matter of fixing the rift between him and Sirius. 

It was a start, Remus thought.


End file.
